


tenderly

by underwires



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, SadBoi!Viktor, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27060211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underwires/pseuds/underwires
Summary: Now, in his own personal brand of hell, Viktor Krum was now a DJ.Much worse, it was like a distant memory that was now very much in front of him, glaring at him and beckoning all his feelings to come back—And Hermione Granger was his new neighbor.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	tenderly

Viktor Krum was sure he could have chosen a better hobby than this. 

After many moments of careful self-evaluation, Viktor concluded that being a DJ-slash-music-producer would have looked better on the resume of any other guy if it not for the fact that _he_ used to be a rugby player who graced the front pages of sports magazines.

He had dabbled with the guitar and his singing voice was passable enough to not break windows way back when he thought that serenading a girl was the best way to woo her. 

Now, _he_ was broken despite his best efforts to be at the top of his game, but as it is, physical contact sports were just cruel both physically and emotionally. 

He didn’t expect that his last game would end in a bone-shattering conclusion that would seal off his sports career, well, close to forever save for a distant miracle. 

It was a great game, though—from what he remembered in the haze of the pain and screams from the crowd as their favorite went down and writhed in pain in the freshly-mowed field. Prior to the injury, Viktor felt like an unstoppable force that was ready to plow against anything that came in between him and victory. 

All his years of blood, sweat, and tears under the heat and rain had all collapsed in that single moment of mortality. 

He was no god, after all, he was still fallible and human. He was at his prime but he was still very much broken. 

Viktor was Icarus crashing down from his glory and his bitter pill to swallow was a lifetime of being just like any ordinary guy—no moments of god-like glory, no front pages, no glistening trophies to console him after some random guy ruined his chances of becoming one of the greatest in his game. 

Now, in his own personal brand of hell, Viktor Krum was now a DJ. 

Being a DJ still required hours of mastery and practice. But it was the talent that he seemed to lack. Theoretically, he _could_ be one of the greats in the shitty world of music production. 

After hours and hours of poring over mixtapes and YouTube tutorials on how to mix and produce songs, Viktor concluded that he might need another lifetime to burn a dancefloor as a DJ. 

It was embarrassing enough having to explain his new-found passion to his old teammates and also harrowing to think of the general public’s reaction when they found out that their former Golden Boy was now doing remixes of old RnB classics. 

As the months passed, Viktor found himself being one of those guys who made slowed and reverbed song remixes on YouTube. 

After a while, he realized that people liked those kinds of remixes of classic RnB songs. By the next month, he had a steady following of listeners and enough clout to make a Patreon page so he can buy himself coffee once a day. 

Frankly, Viktor knew he could do and _be_ better than sulk about his whole situation but as things go, life is shit that way. 

There were a million ways for Viktor to shrug off his sense of defeat except he knew there was no winning this game. 

* * *

The ruckus of the new neighbor’s move-in felt like grinding his balls against a mile of glass with every passing minute, Viktor thought to himself as his music session kept getting rudely interrupted by various household items being dragged against the hardwood floor above his apartment. 

By the end of the first hour, he resolved to pop in and begrudgingly give his new neighbor a warm welcome. 

More like luke-warm welcome, he thinks. That much noise merited only a small plate of brownies that he had in the fridge. 

He hosted a listening party a few days prior to the ball-grinding move-in and now it was willed by some form of a supreme being that he should be nice and welcome whoever was responsible for disrupting his peace of mind and brooding. 

As he climbed up the stairs, Viktor thought that maybe he’s maxed out on his pity points in life. 

That he, who was once at the top of the literal world, would land so low—spinning music that wasn’t his, worn out with self-pity, and giving away his only stash of brownies. 

But as it is, he was still _possibly_ a good person despite, because of, all of this. 

He checks his inbox for messages as he walks along the narrow corridor where the silent apartments sleep into the weekend haze. 

There was news about a high-profile divorce, ads about a missing dog, alerts for fundraisers for this cause that he should donate to, and a text message.

Harry   
  
Hey, mate. Did you hear the news?   
  


No, he did not. 

But it was too late. 

As soon as he switched off his phone to face the open door where a woman was moving the couch for the nth time, she looked up and smiled at him. 

Like it was a distant memory that was now very much in front of him, glaring at him and beckoning all his feelings to come back. 

Hermione Granger was his new neighbor. 

* * *

In the flesh, Hermione Granger was still very much a collection of beauty and a force to be reckoned with. 

But the couch wouldn’t budge to her futile attempts to move it to the far side of her living room and Viktor knew that he had to give her a hand. 

“I guess, welcome to the building, Hermione. Do you need any help with that? I brought a welcoming gift, by the way.” 

To shrug off the awkwardness of saying “hi” to, honestly, the most beautiful girl he’d ever met, he just bulldozed the helpless couch to where she pointed at. 

“Still as strong as always, Viktor. Thanks for the plate of brownies. I love these! Do you live on the same floor?” 

Viktor took a moment to scan the apartment. 

It was clean, well-lit, and cozy. 

A home well-suited for her, he thinks. 

There was already a populated bookshelf near the window and an armchair beside it. 

Whereas Viktor’s apartment was all wood and had the coldness of a man’s touch in interior decorating, Hermione’s space glimmered and glowed with warmth. 

He wishes he could stay here and listen to her explain parallelograms to him as she did back in university. 

But they’re adults now and the only shape he needed focusing on was the big sorry blob that was his life. 

“I live downstairs. Directly below you, in fact. So, uh, I heard the whole move-in since this morning and thought to drop by to help.” 

“Well, that’s very kind of you, Viktor. As always. I’m just about done with everything, thanks to you. The living room was the hardest to sort out. I wanted it to be perfect so I had to rearrange everything a few times…I guess you heard that as well.” 

Viktor smiled sheepishly and berated himself for being too cross at the noise. “Well…yes. I’m surprised you moved in by yourself. I meant to text you for a quick catch-up but never got to do that. I’ve been sort of occupied lately…” He trailed off. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how to begin telling her his months of isolation and general sadness over the loss of the One Great Thing in his life. 

Aside from being a jock, Viktor Krum wasn’t sure who he was or who he was _meant_ to be. 

So now that the pivotal piece of his self-worth was gone, he found himself mourning sourly over it day by day. 

And he was sure that he wasn’t ready to divulge all of that to Hermione. 

Somewhat sensing his reluctance to share more about his situation, Hermione said, “It’s been quite a move, actually. Well…actually, my ex and I broke up so here we are…Not yet done with grieving over it but I need a place to stay so…I guess we’re neighbors now.” She pauses. “I’m glad I know at least one person in the building. And I’m glad it’s you, Viktor. It’s been so long!” 

It did feel like a lifetime ago when they’d spend copious amounts of time studying in the library—him trying to maintain his grades just to keep playing for the team and her just effortlessly excelling at whatever she did because, at the end of the day, she was Hermione Granger and she had the world resting at the palm of her hand because, with all things, she was amazing that way. 

* * *

Hermione   
  
Hey, Viktor. Are the brownies…spiked? Drugged up? Illegal?   
  
Oh shit. If they were, I wasn’t aware of it. Are you ok? Do you need anything? I’m so sorry, Hermione. I didn’t know. :(

* * *

In her loss of the man that she thought she would marry, Hermione felt like a good book, a warm cup of coffee, and some brownies would cheer her up. 

Her evening seemed to be better than the past three months of ugly bouts of crying but suddenly, her world started to slow and her senses seemed to get heightened because she _felt_ the rain pattering out of the window in her bones and she was sure it wasn’t supposed to be that way. 

Maybe her grief was messing with her perception of things but she _knew_ something was up. 

The only explanation was that the brownies may have been _not_ brownies. 

They were delicious, yes, but maybe they weren’t meant as welcoming gifts to your emotional mess of a neighbor, Hermione thought to herself. 

So she opened her AirDrop and found that Viktor had sent his new number to her. How interesting that she didn’t think about asking for his number first now that they were approximately a ceiling away from each other. And, well, a flight of stairs. 

She was glad that Viktor was kind enough to drop by that day. 

To be honest, she was always glad to see him. 

He always felt like he knew what he wanted in life, worked hard to get it, and basked in the rewards he reaped. 

But she heard about his injury and the possible end of his sports career and a part of her wants to comfort him but she knew she was in no form to offer advice to people who have lost something when she wouldn’t even follow her own advice about moving on. 

Most of it consisted of just welcoming her grief, doing what she can to cope with it which meant lots of reading, and immersing herself in her work just to have small victories per day. 

At the rate that she’s going, she shut out her feelings, made herself a slave to her work, and now, she was high as a kite while reading a Jane Austen novel because her life sucked that way now. 

Without thinking, she put on a jumper and carefully headed down the stairs to find the exact door she was hoping to end up in front of. 

She knocked and waited a bit. 

There was odd, warped music that was playing behind it. 

Somehow, the sensation brought her back to moments in past house parties when she was piss drunk in some random person’s bathroom, collecting herself so that she would still look some semblance of sober when she walked out to the living room. 

Viktor Krum’s familiar, muscular figure towered over her when he opened the door. 

When Hermione first met him, she thought he was intimidating—the hoards of giggling girls that trailed after him didn’t help as well. Eventually, they took up the same College Algebra class and ended up being study partners. 

Friendship with Viktor was always easy—he never complained if the modules were too difficult for him and he always helped Hermione stay up for all-nighters even if he had a game the next day. 

For what it was worth, Viktor was a welcome entity in her life and she cared for him deeply. 

“Shit, Hermione. Are you okay? Do you want some water?” He asked her. 

Surprisingly, Hermione never noticed how parched she was and gladly accepted the glass of water that Viktor brought to her. 

“You can sit on the couch, if you want. Are you dizzy? Woozy? You can sleep here if you need company or I can walk you back to yours. I’m really sorry about all of this, Hermione. I didn’t know about the edibles.”

Despite Viktor’s barrage of questions, the only thing she seemed to focus on was the music. 

It was distorted enough to feel like it was reverberating from inside of her and given her current state, her initial response was to lie on the couch. 

“This is good music, Viktor.” She mumbled as she caressed the throw pillow that was propped next to her head. 

Viktor took a seat beside her and leaned in closer so he could hear her better. 

“What was that, Hermione?” 

“Good music. This. Did you make this?” 

“Oh.” Viktor replied. “No one has ever said that the stuff I made was good. Are you sure you’re okay, Hermione? How can I help you?” 

“Just keep playing the good music.” 

Things felt slower, like she was stuck in an unknown dimension and that her surroundings were just music and melodies that strung together to form whatever blob of sound she was hearing. It wasn’t unpleasant, it felt real and tangible—as if she could reach out her hand and touch the notes as they flew in front of her. 

“Just keep playing the good music. Good night, Viktor,” was all she said before closing her eyes. 

* * *

In the haze that was the next morning, Viktor was still very much wrapped up in guilt that he didn’t check the brownies if they were anything else but brownies. In his defense, being an athlete his whole life meant that he steered clear of any form of drug because tests were done on a regular basis and his sport was his life so he made sure he was always ready to compete without any complications. 

Aside from that, all the blame was still on him. 

His apology to Hermione was a bountiful brunch that consisted of crunchy bacon, scrambled eggs, muffins, and a good pot of coffee. 

He figured that Hermione was tired from yesterday’s move and would sleep like a baby because of that and partly because whatever was in the brownies instantly guaranteed her a good night’s rest. 

Half an hour later, she was seated on a bar stool next to his counter watching him add whipped cream and cinnamon to her cup of coffee—just the way she liked it. 

Everything seemed surprising to Viktor, but also very oddly familiar. 

When they were in university, they’d always start their study sessions with a trip to the nearest coffee shop and stayed there chatting about their classes and updating each other about their lives. 

It was all very pleasant and comforting because Hermione was the only person who wasn’t starstruck by Viktor’s presence, nor did she grovel over him or try to flirt her way into his pants from across the table. 

When he started feeling butterflies at the pit of his stomach every time Hermione brushed her hair behind her ear whenever she was concentrating or when she’d bite her bottom lip in thought, he knew he was in trouble. 

But as life would put it, Hermione started dating one of her good friends, Ron, he remembers his name very well as she would gush endlessly about him, and he was whisked away to play professional rugby as soon as he put his graduation robes on. 

Now that Hermione was giddily sipping on her warm cup of coffee and talking to Viktor about her plans to get a tabby cat, he felt a painful pang in his chest that he could only point at as his repressed feelings for her—how he wished _he_ were the one to tuck loose strands of Hermione’s hair behind her ear, or cup the small of her cheek to gaze at her beautiful hazel eyes. 

“Who knew Viktor Krum could whip up an incredible breakfast! Viktor, I know you’re still beating yourself up about what happened last night and I just want to say that I know it’s not your fault but if it would help, well, I forgive you.” 

Viktor stopped clearing the dishes from the table to look at Hermione, unable to speak because, yes, he was terribly beating himself up about what happened. 

Hermione plopped off the bar stool and stood next to him. 

“Viktor,” she said as she put one gentle hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. You’re one of the kindest people I know and you definitely didn’t do that on purpose.”

Viktor sighed in relief. “Thanks, Hermione. I’m going to say this one last time…I’m truly, terribly sorry.” 

She smiled at him. “Don’t be such a sad muffin. I’ll go back to my apartment in a bit. Thanks again for letting me crash on your couch. You’ve always been a great friend.” 

* * *

Viktor Krum wasn’t sure when he and Hermione agreed to spend almost every waking moment together. 

Hermione’s office moved to a work-from-home setup so she was always cooped up in her apartment while Viktor was busy holed up in his place mixing and remixing tracks. 

She’d always tell him how much she liked his new project and that he should release an album or EP soon, but he was just too embarrassed about his current job.

“Uploading my stuff on YouTube works, Hermione. I’m good with that.” He’d tell her. 

Hermione was the type of person who always pushed and never settled. “Come on, Viktor. If it’s your name you’re worried about, then you can release your music under your DJ name. I really liked the lo-fi jazz stuff you made me listen to the other day.” 

Viktor always appreciated Hermione’s positive feedback about his music and valued her constructive criticism whenever she knew he could do better. 

In the past few months that they’ve alternated between his or her apartment, working, hanging out, and eating whatever new recipe Viktor found, things seemed to be turning up for him. 

He also noticed that Hermione started to smile more and that the sad look in her eyes rarely made an appearance during the lulls of their time together. 

Whenever she’d space out during a movie or stop in the middle of a sentence, he knew she was reminiscing or having a flashback of sorts. He never asked her about it and just listened whenever she would talk about her thoughts and feelings. 

He’d always tell her that all of her emotions are equally important—the “good” and “bad” ones are important for her personal growth, that she should _feel_ each one because it leads her to self-actualization, whatever that meant for her. 

Ironically, Viktor still found himself stuck in his pity party, especially now that he’s noticed a small blob of fat in his stomach. He wasn’t used to it so he took it upon himself to call his physical therapist to ask about what home workouts he could do. 

By the time he laid his yoga mat on his living room floor, Hermione showed up in gym gear and laid down her own yoga mat beside him. 

If it was only friendship that Hermione wanted, he was content with that. She was bright sunshine in the gloomy London days that he spent with himself. 

If she wanted more, Viktor was too scared to lose what they had right now just to pursue her heart even if that was what he wanted above all things. 

At this point, Viktor learned to settle for the small victories that come his way and the presence of Hermione Granger was, in itself, more than he could ever ask for. 

* * *

It was a Saturday night and Hermione had just opened her bathtub faucet to draw a nice warm bath for herself. 

She had just finished doing some yoga poses with Viktor in his apartment. She could see how much he had tried not to be too hard on himself whenever he’d mess up a pose or lose balance because of his leg injury. So she’d suggested that they meditate instead and now that she was in a state of calm, a bath was the next sensible step. 

Viktor had given her some of her favorite mixes in a folder stored in a drive and it was softly playing in her living room. 

Her tub was going to be ready in about fifteen minutes when she suddenly realized that she had forgotten to follow up on the dinner she ordered for her and Viktor that night. She figured that it would be best for him to take the night off and the both of them could enjoy some sushi since neither of them knew how to roll those. 

Hermione calculated how much time it would take to briskly walk to the sushi shop and get her order so that she could get back to her apartment in time for her bath to be ready: about ten minutes. 

So she put on a coat and made her way to the sushi shop. 

The restaurant was packed when she got there. 

Much worse, they forgot to note down her order so it was going to take another twenty minutes to make the miso soup and roll the sushi. 

On any given day, she would have relented and bought food somewhere else, but she had already promised Viktor sushi rolls from their favorite restaurant and she can’t have him more disappointed tonight than he already was. 

Half an hour passed and she was walking back towards her apartment when her phone rang. 

“Hermione, is your bathroom faucet leaking?” Viktor’s voice was slightly worried. 

“Oh shit! I left the tap on the bathtub running when I picked up the sushi. I completely forgot about it! Shit, shit, shit.” 

She paced her steps at a much faster rate that she was already running up the stairs to her apartment. 

When she got to her apartment door, Viktor was already standing there. 

“I have to go in and turn off the water. I can’t believe I forgot about it!” She said frantically as she turned the doorknob and rushed to the bathroom. 

The bathroom floor was flooded and she had to slosh her way to the tub to finally turn the tap off. 

Viktor peered into the bathroom where Hermione was surveying the damage that she had caused. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked. 

“Aside from flooding my bathroom, thankfully I didn’t have anything plugged in the sockets or else my whole apartment would have been toast.” She replied. 

“Well, actually, it’s started to leak…in my bedroom. I guess your bathroom is directly below that…” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Viktor. I should have closed the water before I went to get our sushi. It’s my fault…I’m so sorry.” 

She walked towards the living room and plopped herself on the couch, covering her face in shame. 

Viktor sat beside her and gave her shoulders a warm squeeze. “I’ll call the landlord tomorrow for you. Don’t worry about it.” 

Hermione looked up at him and touched his hand with hers gently. “You can sleep on my bed for the night, I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s my fault anyway.” 

Viktor paused to think about her offer. 

“Okay, I’ll sleep here. _But_ I’ll be the one to sleep on the couch. It’s your apartment, Hermione. Go sleep on your bed. We can mop up the bathroom floor before we eat dinner.” 

* * *

Viktor went back to his apartment to take a quick shower, put on some pajamas, and went back up to Hermione’s place. 

She had already fixed the couch and put pillows and a cozy blanket on it. 

“The bedroom is right there, Viktor. I’m sleeping here.” She said. 

“Hermione…I told you, I’m sleeping on the couch. If you want to sleep here, there isn’t room for the both of us on the couch so, logically, you’d have to sleep on your bed.” Viktor replied. 

“There’s a leak in your bedroom ceiling because of me. So, _logically_ , I have to make up for it by offering you my bed because I’ve done enough trouble as it is.” She stood still for a while and continued, “Well, if we both can’t fit in the couch, may I offer you the other side of the bed? I’ll build a pillow wall so we’re both comfortable.” 

Viktor smiled in acquiescence. “If that makes you feel better about things, then, sure we can do that.” 

Hermione spent the next ten minutes removing the pillows from the couch, then rearranging them as a fort in between her side of the bed and Viktor’s. 

Viktor didn’t really mind that Hermione was putting so much effort in making sure their personal spaces were still in check because, as things are, he’d barely have any sleep given his close proximity to Hermione. And the thought of sleeping next to her made the butterflies in his stomach flutter obnoxiously. 

They both settled into bed and there was an awkward silence between them. 

“Hey, Viktor.” 

“Hey, Hermione. What’s up?” 

“Just let me know if you need anything.” Then she turned to the side of the bed facing away from him. 

“This is more than enough, Hermione. Thanks again.” 

Viktor finally closed the light on the bedside table that was illuminating the room. 

For the next hour, Viktor just laid awake and felt the ins and outs of Hermione’s breathing, knowing that she was still very much as awake as he was. 

“Hermione?” 

She turned once again to face him. 

“Yes, Viktor?” 

“Why did we stop hanging out in university?” 

A pause. “I started dating someone and well, I never had the heart to tell you this but he was threatened by you.” 

“Threatened?” 

This was all news to Viktor. He had always thought that Hermione just started to get overwhelmed with schoolwork that she didn’t have time to tutor him anymore. 

“Yes, I guess we can file it under toxic masculinity.” She said. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad we’re friends again. I missed you.” 

The room was quiet. 

And Viktor could feel his heart hammering against his chest because, after all the months that he had spent with Hermione, this was probably the most honest thing that he has said to her about his feelings…about her. 

“I missed you too, Viktor.” She snuggled her pillow closer to her face. “A lot.” 

Viktor could feel a blush spreading across his cheeks. He turned his head to look at Hermione and saw her looking up at him. 

He felt a chill as the wind blew into the room so he melted into the covers some more, tucking in his hand under the pillow fort. 

As he reached the very bottom of the pillow in between him and Hermione, he was surprised to feel her hand resting there as well. 

It took him a few seconds to breathe out what he’s always wanted to say to her. 

“Hermione, can I hold your hand?” He asked in almost a whisper. 

“Yes, Viktor. I’d very much like that.” 

Her hands were warm and soft, and he involuntarily wrapped his fingers around hers, not thinking about how intimate that was. 

All he thought about was how he, Viktor Krum, was holding the hand of the most beautiful girl he’s ever met and he was over the moon with joy. 

He knew that, at that moment, he was hopelessly, unabashedly, in love with Hermione Granger. 

They spent a few moments in silence, holding each other, a feeling that seemed new and familiar at the same time. 

“Hey, Viktor.” 

“Yes, Hermione?” 

“I can remove the pillow fort, if you’d like. I mean, if you want to…” 

Viktor’s response was to remove the pillows one by one and put them on the edge of the bed. 

He didn’t know what to do, where to position himself. 

“Can I hold you?” He finally asked her. 

Hermione moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest, feeling the ragged inhale and exhale. 

Without thinking, Viktor started stroking her hair—gently, as if she were made of porcelain. 

She snuggled closer to him and he caught a whiff of the lavender and sage scent of her hair. 

He carefully rested his head on hers and continued to stroke her hair with his free hand, while holding her other hand with his. 

It felt right, like all of these years of waiting aligned to this very moment. This moment of calm, of bliss. 

“Hermione?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

She moved her head to kiss his forehead. “Yes, I’d very much like that, Viktor.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with happiness. 

He slowly moved his lips towards her, her anticipation grew and she opened her mouth to meet his lips, but he planted one soft kiss on her forehead before moving to her nose, her cheek, then finally to her lips. 

Holding her, kissing her, brought all their moments together in one glorious touch. 

She clung to him closer, more fervently, and he could feel himself getting lost in the moment of her warmth against his body. 

All he ever wanted to give to Hermione Granger was the warmth that she brought to his life. So he held her gently, kissed her graciously, and touched her admiringly. 

He was bent on worshipping her body. 

He felt all of her warmth as soon as he was inside her. 

She was beautiful, lying there, expectantly waiting for him to move. 

So when he did, she let out a gasp of pleasure and clung to him. 

Everything felt like they were in sync—as if they knew each other’s next movements and calculated how best to give the other the most pleasure. 

When they both collapsed on each other, panting and well-spent, Viktor couldn’t help but feel like he had won the world. 

Viktor Krum realized that it wasn’t the world that he wanted in the first place. 

It was her, lying next to him, despite, _because of,_ all of their moments together. 

_Her._

He turned to Hermione and kissed her forehead again before holding her close once more. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi! been working on this for a while! hope you like it!!  
>   
>  **comments and kudos are very much appreciated! xx**  
> 


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